A Tryst for Two
by vandiver49
Summary: T'Pol's life, not according to plan
1. Past is Prologue

A Tryst for Two (Chap 1)  
  
By vandiver49  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.  
  
_________________________________  
  
Dear T'Pol,  
  
Well, I bet you were alittle surprised to find this little letter lurking in a picture frame weren't you? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you a couple of things that I lacked the courage to do face to face. First, I'm so glad you decided to stay with us on Enterprise. I know it was a tough decision to make and I hope you don't regret your choice. I just know the ship wouldn't have been the same without you. You have no idea how you touched all the lives onboard, mine especially. And I suppose that's the real reason I wrote this letter, to let you know how much you meant to me. Three years ago we were practically mortal enemies, but somewhere along the way, we became great friends. And I was content with that, but over time you became something much more than that to me. I love you T'Pol, there I said it. I know that you're thinking; that's illogical. Believe you me, I thought it too. But saying it is illogical didn't make it any less true. Anyway, it was something I had to come to grips with, being as there wasn't anything that I could do about it. I think it was Shakespeare that said all love is unrequited; I must confess that truer words were never spoken. Well, I guess I'm rambling on, truly hope you and Koss are happy together and I wish you nothing but the best. Hey, don't be a stranger OK? Look me up sometime if you're in the neighborhood, we'll share a slice of pecan pie together.  
  
Yours truly, Charles 'Trip' Tucker III  
  
T'Pol refolded the letter back along its worn and tattered creases and carefully replaced the twenty year old letter back behind the picture frame. The picture was a snapshot of a faded memory from her distant past of herself and Commander Tucker standing together on a bluff. Two of finger his fingers rose from behind her head like Andorian antennae, something he referred to as 'bunny ears'.  
  
She placed the frame back down on the table, a table which contained an assortment of Terran knickknacks. It started out simply as a collection of all of the gifts from her going-away party on Enterprise. There were two hardback books, a rarity on Earth and an even greater one on Vulcan. The first was a compellation of human colloquialisms given to her by Hoshi, so she could 'keep up with the conversation'. Malcolm provided her the other book, the complete works of William Shakespeare. He confessed to her that it would provide unparallel insight into the human mind, something she found to be true. Captain Archer gave her a most unique chess set, with three distinctive tiers and pieces of human and Vulcan influence. And from Travis, an anthology of Earth's greatest jazz musicians, ranging from Miles Davis and Louis Armstrong to Boney James. Her small collection had grown over the years into a venerable gallery of human memorabilia. Adorning the facing wall were two prints by Georgia O'Keefe. Bordering them were four reproductions of her favorite M. C. Escher works. Resting on its stand was a weathered trumpet, one of the few Terran objects she encountered that was older than her. When she purchased the instrument, she found its asking price appalling. But as she slowly attempted to master the horn, T'Pol realized its age and appearance gave it soul, as illogical as that may seem. The most coveted item on the table was a small Bonsai tree. It took two months of considerable haggling before Vulcan customs allowed its entrance, but the therapeutic plant was well worth the wait. She had spent over two years pruning and shaping the tree, giving it the broad horizontal limbs to compliment her final piece; the table itself. It was a reproduction of one designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, a late Terran architect. She actually found the piece somewhat ironic in that she appreciated it more than anything her husband had designed. That irony was by design though, as Koss chose not to share the breadth of his work and life with her.  
  
She maintained her promise and fulfilled her obligation, marrying Koss as was expected of any dutiful Vulcan woman. Later that year, T'Pol gaze birth to her first and only child, Miranda. Though Koss was not overly thrilled with her choice of names.  
  
//////////////  
  
*T'Pol, what kind of name is Miranda, it has no meaning in Vulcan.*  
  
*Of course not Koss, it is a human name from the Shakespearean play.*  
  
*A human name T'Pol?* Koss immediately questioned. *Where is the logic in that?*  
  
*I am simply fond of the name. Besides you were unaware of its origin until I told you.*  
  
*It is a stigma I do not wish my daughter to endure.* Koss contested.  
  
*I beg to differ dear husband. It is an ancient Earth name that has long since fallen out of popularity; I doubt anyone will be aware of its origin.*  
  
Koss simply steamed as he realized he wasn't dissuading his wife. *I always assumed your time amongst humans had clouded your judgment, it appears I am correct.*  
  
///////////////  
  
This should have been T'Pol's first inkling of trouble in her new life, but at the time she supposed that it was simply a difference on opinions. Instead of growing together as a family, they grew more distant as the years progressed. Koss' success as an architect carried him further away from home. At times he would stay gone for months as he turned his structural dreams into reality. This also did not give T'Pol cause for concern. She had asked him to wait on her, how could she do any less for him. But when he was invited to go to Earth to study Terran architectural, the flaws of their marriage resurfaced once again.  
  
///////////////  
  
*How long will you be away?* She asked.  
  
*I am unsure. The study will be intensive.*  
  
*Perhaps I could join you?*  
  
*T'Pol, did you ever venture outside of the area surrounding the Vulcan Compound?*  
  
*Of course not, it was considered a safety risk.*  
  
*Unlike Vulcan, which is dominated by the singular utilitarian style, Earth is filled with a bevy of different design ethics. It will take my colleagues and me several years to study and catalogue them all. I do not wish to subject my family to that level of instability.*  
  
While his argument was valid, T'Pol wanted to be with her mate, and him to be with his daughter. *Perhaps we could live in a location with a large Vulcan population, say San Francisco?*  
  
*T'Pol you have been to Earth, do you really want to raise Miranda in that environment?*  
  
*If it means she will be able to see her father. Koss, you are away more than you are home. I believe that you are practically a stranger to her.*  
  
Koss placed his hands on T'Pol's waist. *I understand your concern my wife. I promise that this will be my final excursion.*  
  
//////////////  
  
Miranda was five when he left. She had no reason to doubt his words, because he had no reason to deceive her. But as time past, and Koss failed to return for daughters' seventh birthday, T'Pol grew increasingly distressed, as there were only two possible explanations for husband's absence. His return a year later signaled that their relationship was irrevocably broken.  
  
The next eleven years the two spent together was a spectacle, nothing more than display for the satisfaction of others. T'Pol raised Miranda by herself for all intents and purposes, as Koss chose to keep his distance, rather than be the subject of her scorn. She remembered being informed that her stay on Enterprise would be a negative and damning experience. Who would have guessed that life on Vulcan would rival those predictions?  
  
T'Pol turned away from that memorable corner and cringed. Her life wasn't in any way negative; she had a wonderful and brilliant daughter, who was the reason for her current reflection into what was.  
  
*Mother, are you ready yet?* Miranda asked upon entering her mother's bedroom.  
  
*Yes my daughter, in a moment.* T'Pol returned her attention back towards the travel case resting on her bed.  
  
Miranda peered over to notice the case was only half filled. *Saving room for some souvenirs Mother?*  
  
*There is always the possibility that something may catch my eye. I have been looking for another piece to accentuate the house.*  
  
*I figured as much. Whatever your reason Mother, we must hurry or we will miss the transport.*  
  
*Very well daughter, let us depart.* As T'Pol grabbed her case and exited her home, she remembered how she believed that her life would be confined to Vulcan. She was so relieved this was not to be. T'Pol was escorting her daughter not only to the transport but also on an adventure, one which she herself had embarked upon nearly twenty-five years ago. There destination; that pale blue dot Vulcans refer to as Terra, but common known amongst its inhabitants as Earth. 


	2. Veil of Night

A Tryst for Two (Chap 2)  
  
By vandiver49  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.  
  
Sorry for the delay, occasionally duty calls, this isn't my day job you know.  
  
Thanks to stubadingdong and THECURSOR for the wonderful advice. I hope the grammar and descriptions are to your liking.  
  
Flashbacks are between the ////////////////////  
  
_________________________________  
  
T'Pol gazed out the viewport of the transport, watching the stars streak by in the night sky. It had been so long since she had seen that effect on light, a surreal reminder of her past. So much had changed in the galaxy since she left it. Humanity had proven itself to be a worthy spacefaring race, a fact that even Vulcans were forced to concede. As they were unable to stifle humanity's growth any longer, Vulcans had to accept the painful truth that humans were their equals as well. Terrans had achieved in a few centuries what it and taken her people a millennium to master. But these facts came as no surprise to T'Pol; her time abroad Enterprise gave her a clarity and insight into Humans that few Vulcans would ever realize.  
  
The first year proved to be the most difficult as she had to adjust to her new environs. There was the smell of course, but that was a minor inconvenience and was easily remedied. Other things, such as the raw emotions and the illogical ideology of her shipmates proved far more difficult to accept. She initially thought her purpose onboard was useless as many of her recommendations of caution and patience fell upon deaf ears. There were numerous occasions when Captain Archer and his crew would follow their whims, resulting in ship and her crew being placed into some precarious situations. But over time, T'Pol began to understand their haste and why they never accepted complacency. In her time onboard she watched the humble ship grow with each innovation. Malcolm continued to tinker with his prototype energy shield, eventually incorporating it into the hull polarization system to create the first force field. Hoshi, after several frustrating attempts, finally created an algorithm to perfect the Universal Translator. And of course there was a most creative idea proposed by the ship's Chief Engineer.  
  
///////////////////////  
  
"I'm tellin' you Captain it'll work, I swear." Trip pleaded emphatically to his Captain and First Officer. A schematic of the warp nacelles on the central display enhanced the illumination of the Ready Room, and hopefully Trip's idea.  
  
"Well just for my own edification, run it by me one more time." Jon replied.  
  
"It's like this Captain, currently, when we go into warp, only the inner surface of the warp coils come into contact with the plasma, but if we saturate the warp nacelles with plasma before going into warp, we can double the surface area, thus producing a stronger warp field."  
  
Though Jon didn't thoroughly grasp the physics behind Trip's theory, he completely understood the possibilities. "So bottom line Trip, how fast are we talking about?"  
  
"Warp 6," He replied. Jon initially looked crestfallen until Trip completed his train of thought. "Without the turbochargers."  
  
"And with?" The Captain asked anxiously.  
  
"Warp 7 sir, maybe even Warp 8 Lord willin'."  
  
Jon tried to contain his glee as he turned towards his First Officer. "Well T'Pol, what do you think?"  
  
Her thoughts long since collected, T'Pol's response was very succinct. "Commander Tucker's theory is quite intriguing and does seem plausible. But it is an experiment that is best saved for Starfleet Research and Development, not the Enterprise." Neither man was surprised by her answer.  
  
The Captain turned his attention back towards the Chief Engineer. "What's the worst case scenario Trip?"  
  
"Worst case, we'll blow a couple of warp coils and be stranded until we affect repairs."  
  
The thought of being stranded didn't assuage Jon's convictions, much to T'Pol's chagrin. "I think that those are acceptable risks, when do you think you'll be ready?"  
  
"A couple hours, three tops." Trip said as the three rose to leave the ready room.  
  
"Captain, may I accompany Commander Tucker to Engineering to provide assistance since you insist on pursuing this foolish endeavor?" T'Pol asked, seeing as how she was going to be ignored once again.  
  
"Sure T'Pol, knock yourself out." The Captain replied.  
  
On the turbolift down to Engineering, T'Pol continued to question Trip's motives. "Commander, why do you find it necessary to exceed the rated specifications of the ships' engines?"  
  
"Cuz T'Pol, I just have a need for speed, that's all."  
  
"I am familiar with that human desire," T'Pol said begrudgingly, "But why not patiently wait until that technology is created; why force it?"  
  
"Because, I don't have the luxury of living for 200 years like you do. I'd like to see one our ships fly as a Vulcan one within my lifetime." Trip countered.  
  
"That brings me to my second query Commander. While I cannot go into the specifics, I can tell you that Vulcan starships have twice the power output of this vessel. How can you possibly believe Enterprise will achieve such velocities without that advantage?"  
  
"Oh that's simple; it's all in the hips." Trip said as he mimicked T'Pol's hourglass form in front of her with his hands. His lightly chauvinistic comment yielded an arched eyebrow and a curious glare from the Vulcan.  
  
"C'mon T'Pol," Trip smiled in response to her confusion, "Haven't you ever wondered why Enterprise has a saucer shaped design?"  
  
T'Pol's retort was uncharacteristically jovial. "No Commander, I always assumed it was a tribute to the Terran fascination with alien visitation and abduction in your late 20th Century. UFO's, I believed they were called."  
  
"Oh here we go again, pickin' on the illogical and irrational humans." Trip said in mock irritation. "For your information, the design is one of the reasons why we can travel at Warp 5 in the first place."  
  
As the two exited the turbolift, Trip continued to expound upon his theory. "Its like this Sub-Commander, the saucer section helps to create two warp fields around the ship, a primary node around the Engineering section and a sympathetic one around the saucer."  
  
"So the power that is put into the primary node is reflected into the secondary node." T'Pol deduced.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Though he was human, she had to admit that Commander Tucker was the most capable engineer she had ever met. And somehow he had managed to even convince her that his dream was more than plausible. T'Pol spent the better part of two hours helping Trip align the plasma injectors and check coolant levels, all in preparation for the big event. Amidst the chaotic sounds in Engineering, T'Pol stood on the catwalk, straining to her Commander Tucker's instructions.  
  
"T'Pol, go ahead and open the plasma intake manifold all the way." He yelled from a distant part of Engineering.  
  
Commander, I do not believe we will be able to cool the warp nacelle effectively if we continue to inject plasma into them at this rate."  
  
"Don't worry about it, if it gets too hot we'll just vent to space." He replied as he jumped up the stairs, joining T'Pol on the catwalk.  
  
"Archer to Engineering. Trip, are you ready down there?"  
  
"Yes sir, whenever you're ready. Just make sure to tell everyone to hold on, the inertial dampeners weren't made to handle this kind of acceleration."  
  
"Got it Trip, Archer out."  
  
T'Pol stood on the catwalk with Trip as Enterprise prepared once again to make history. The ship leapt forward in the darkness of space, hurtling towards its destiny upon the imagination of the Chief Engineer. She recalled how the ship caviated violently as it reached Warp 5, only to transition into a soothing cruise at Warp 6. She didn't even remember when the ship reached Warp 7; a memory as blurred as the stars outside. Warp 8 was clearly marked though by the cheers and adulations that went up from Engineering and throughout the ship. And T'Pol simply couldn't forget how Trip decided to share his jubilation. She was completely taken by surprise when he scooped her up off the ground, twirling her all around the catwalk in celebration. Trip hadn't realized the ramifications of his actions until he opened his eyes and found himself starring directly at T'Pol's.assets. Fortunately for the both of them their little display had gone unnoticed.  
  
"Uh, sorry T'Pol, I got a little excited there."  
  
"Understandable Commander, but I believe it would be advisable for you to put me down before we become a spectacle."  
  
/////////////////////  
  
T'Pol closed eyes and turned her attention back towards her daughter, who was reading a PADD. Her name provided only a small hint of her unique personality. Her brown hair was cropped at a modest length against the contours of her face; her bangs striated in a disorderly fashion upon her brow. The apex of her ears peaked imperceptivity through the strands, barely belying her Vulcan heritage. Her daughter was completely enthralled with alien civilizations, especially the rich and diverse cultures of Earth. She was fluent in English, Chinese, Spanish, Klingon and Andorian and was the youngest Vulcan liaison to ever be assigned to the Terran Embassy there. In a way, Miranda reminded T'Pol of a younger version of herself, except that her daughter was quite comfortable with her quirks and idiosyncrasies, something T'Pol had only recently come to embrace. She watched as her daughter's eyes darted back and forth across the PADD, a clear indication that whatever she was reading was in English.  
  
"What are you reading Miranda?"  
  
Her daughter looked up from her PADD before answering. "I'm reading a tourist's guide to San Francisco."  
  
Miranda watched her mother's eyebrow raise skyward in response. "Mother, I don't understand why you refuse to use contractions."  
  
"Because they are slang terms Miranda, but that is not the point. You are going to Earth to be an aid in the Vulcan consulate, a much-esteemed position. I believe you should be more focused on that than what 'sight- seeing' you plan to do."  
  
"Mother, you know what humans say about all work and no play."  
  
"Yes, I am quite familiar with the phase, but Vulcans do not 'play'."  
  
"This from one with a three dimensional chess set." Miranda countered.  
  
T'Pol could only sigh in defeat at her daughter's righteousness. It was more than apparent Miranda had also inherited her mother's wry sense of humor.  
  
"Mother, may I ask you a question?" T'Pol instantly knew from this leading question that her daughter's next query would more than likely pertain her past.  
  
"Yes Miranda, what would you like to know?"  
  
"Who's the human standing next to you in the picture?"  
  
"Commander Charles Tucker III. He was the Chief Engineer on Enterprise."  
  
"No Mother, I know his name and what his position was. I want to know who he was to you." It was rare for Miranda to ever ask about T'Pol's personal life, she knew it was something her mother closely guarded and rarely shared with anyone, including herself.  
  
"T'Pol closed her eyes before responding. "He was a friend Miranda, quite possibly my best. If not for him, you would not be here today."  
  
Though she was tempted to pry further into her mother's past, she thought better of it. "You know Mother; we will be staying on Earth for almost a month. Why not go visit him?"  
  
"No Miranda, I cannot." T'Pol quickly dismissed.  
  
"Can't or won't?"  
  
"Both." 


	3. Days Gone By

A Tryst for Two (Chap 3)  
  
By vandiver49  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.  
  
Flashbacks are between the ////////////////////  
  
__________________________________________  
  
T'Pol eased into her chair as the Vulcan transport prepared to enter Earth's atmosphere. Even though her people had long since perfected the art of space travel, transitioning from space always remained a problematic experience. The crimson shuttle shuttered as it pierced the atmosphere, blazing a fiery streak across the sky. The ship descended further through a stratum of clouds before the planet below revealed itself again. T'Pol briefly glanced out her window, recognizing the azure expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, and the rapidly approaching Eastern Seaboard. The transport continued to race over the North American continent as it headed towards the Pacific Coast. The ship slowed gracefully as it approached the spaceport in San Francisco, beneath the shadows of the Golden Gate Bridge.  
  
It turned out that T'Pol and Miranda had arrived on a picturesque Thursday morning, with whips of cirrus clouds dotting an otherwise gorgeous day. The two took a hover-taxi through the rolling knolls of the Presidio to their temporary residence in Forge Hill, a relatively new neighborhood surrounding the Vulcan Compound. Their new home was one of the fabled Victorian painted ladies, its teal and lavender colors a dynamic contract to the tan, beige and olive colors to which both women were accustom. The stained glass door creaked open slowly, revealing the mahogany hardwood floors and vaulted cathedral ceilings of the old house. After settling into their new surroundings, Miranda managed to convince her mother into doing a little sightseeing after all.  
  
The two took San Francisco by foot, starting at Nob Hill, strolling through Little Italy and Little Tokyo. Currently the two were perusing the streets of Chinatown, where Miranda was thumbing through the weathered pages and scrolls of a Chinese bookstore. T'Pol decided to take a break at a sidewalk café to enjoy a cup of mint tea and relish in the beauty of the day. She watched the teaming masses of humans and Vulcans stroll by her table, the choir of their voices blending harmoniously with the din of everyday life. T'Pol was about to indulge in another refreshing sip when the drawl of a particular conversation tantalized her ears.  
  
"What do you mean you don't have sweet tea?"  
  
"Well sir, there is sugar on the table."  
  
"Nah, that's not even the same thing. Look, just gimme a glass of lemonade and a big slice of that pecan pie you got back there."  
  
T'Pol closed her eyes and let her ears drink in the inflections and intonations of the gentleman's voice. She was fully aware of its familiarity, conjuring up a name and a face instantaneously, but it was still hard for her to believe it could be him. She glanced upwards through her lashes as he left the café. T'Pol assumed that he would continue on his way, but for some unknown reason he turned his head and their eyes connected.  
  
"T'Pol, is that you?" It was more a statement of fact than a question.  
  
"Hello Commander Tucker." Her deadpan reply lacked any hint of the surprise that she felt.  
  
"I don't believe it, T'Pol of Vulcan, as I live and breathe. How have you been?"  
  
"I have been well Commander, and yourself?"  
  
"Well first of all call me Trip or Charles at least, I got out of Starfleet a long time ago, and I'm doing great. So what brings you to 'Frisco?"  
  
"My daughter is enrolled in an internship at the Vulcan Consulate here. I decided to accompany her since she is scheduled to be here for a month." T'Pol watched as Trip tried to stifle his laughter. "What is so humorous Commander?"  
  
"Nothing, I just find it hard to picture you as a Mom. But I imagine it's no more of a stretch than me being a Dad."  
  
T'Pol couldn't argue with his observation, the thought of Trip being a father caused her to render a curious glare. "So I am to understand that there is a Charles Tucker IV?"  
  
"Was there any doubt? Far be it for me to break a long standing family tradition."  
  
"So Charles, what brings you here?"  
  
"Oh, my boy starts his first day at Starfleet Academy tomorrow. I guess he's tryin' to follow in his old man's footsteps." Trip looked down at his watched and realized the day was slipping away. "Man T'Pol I gotta run. Look maybe we could get together tomorrow evenin' and catch up on old times?"  
  
T'Pol wavered slightly at Trip's invitation. "I am unsure if I will be available, but I will let you know."  
  
"Well, here's the address and number of where I'm staying, just give me a call if you can OK?" Trip said as he scribbled the information down on a napkin.  
  
T'Pol only nodded in response.  
  
"Well, if you don't have the time, it was nice seein' you again." Trip said as he departed.  
  
T'Pol's eyes remained trained on the former Engineer as he walked down the street. Her focus remained constant to the exclusion of everything else, including her own daughter as she walked up to the café. Miranda watched as her mother solemnly closed her eyes, as if she was trying to regain her composure.  
  
"Was that Commander Tucker?" Miranda inquired as she sat down at her mother's table.  
  
"Yes it was. He has invited me to dinner tomorrow night." T'Pol replied, unsure of exactly why she chose to volunteer that information.  
  
"So do you plan on going?"  
  
T'Pol mind faltered as she still hadn't reached a decision. "I do not know."  
  
Miranda was mildly confused, for she had never known her mother to be indecisive. It was also quite evident that this human had endeared himself to her mother in a very unique way. "Mother, if he was your best friend, why wouldn't you want to see him?"  
  
T'Pol believed she had a very legitimate reason for avoiding Trip, but she chose instead to answer her daughter's question with one of her own. "Miranda, do you know what happiness is?"  
  
Miranda's curt response was typical of most Vulcans. "Happiness is one of but many emotions."  
  
T'Pol shook her head in disagreement, her daughter's trite answer reminiscent of her own naïveté. "I once used to be of that same opinion, but a wise engineer once told me that happiness is not an emotion, but a state of being." With some degree of trepidation she continued. "The only problem is that you never realize how truly happy you were until it's gone."  
  
Miranda always loathed her mother's seemingly cryptic musings, as they tended to be more confusing than enlightening. "I'm afraid I don't understand Mother."  
  
"I hope you never do."  
  
. . .  
  
After enjoying a light dinner, T'Pol and Miranda walked back to their new home. But the elder Vulcan's focus had waned; too enthralled by her chance meeting and the possibilities it held. Seeing Commander Tucker again had opened a door of repressed memories and feelings she thought long since closed.  
  
//////////////////////////  
  
T'Pol stood in the Mess Hall, staring out the window at the red planet below. The place was still a disaster from her going away party earlier, but the camaraderie that was enjoyed just hours before had quickly evaporated. T'Pol's gaze remained so transfixed on her home that she failed to notice the Chief Engineer's approaching footsteps.  
  
"Looks kinda like Mars doesn't it?" Trip said as he reached her side.  
  
"Yes, the two planets do share similar hues."  
  
The two stood in brief silence as Vulcan rolled on its belly before another word was exchanged.  
  
"You know you have to go." Trip offered, as if he knew what was plaguing her thoughts.  
  
"Were you not the same person whom preached to me about freedom of choice?" She retorted.  
  
"Yea, but this isn't about freedom of choice, it's about your happiness."  
  
"We are talking about my obligation to tradition versus my commitment to duty." T'Pol said defiantly. But her gazed descended sheepishly as she continued. "But if I were to indulge in such as emotion, I would contend that I am happy here."  
  
"But you won't be if you stay."  
  
"To, the contrary, the Enterprise's mission is not yet complete, and as such is still in need of a science officer."  
  
"Just as Koss is in need of his wife."  
  
T'Pol pursed her lips in exasperation as Trip's words echoed that unavoidable truth. "Commander, why do you always choose the most inopportune moments to be logical?"  
  
"Because it's the only surefire way I can get you to listen." Trip said as he lightly draped his arm across T'Pol's shoulder.  
  
T'Pol turned her head and eyed Trip's hand and the rectangular package held within. "I take it that is for me?"  
  
"Nothing gets by you huh?" Trip said as he offered her the gift.  
  
T'Pol took the present and unwrapped it in seconds.  
  
"You like it?" Trip asked, curious if his present was sentimental enough.  
  
T'Pol offered a simple nod in response as she looked at the captured image, just one of the many memories that she would surely miss. "Thank you Commander." She said, turning to face him and his outstretched arms. T'Pol, in uncharacteristic Vulcan fashion, stepped into his warm embrace.  
  
"Live long and prosper T'Pol." Trip said whispered softly into her ear.  
  
"Peace and long life Charles."  
  
//////////////////////////  
  
T'Pol always thought it ironic that Commander Tucker knew her better than Koss ever did. She suspected that was the reason why Trip chose to hide his letter instead of confessing his feelings for her directly. She realized that placing herself in such a vulnerable position again would be illogical, regardless of the momentary bliss that she would certainly find in his company. With her mind made up, T'Pol slowly balled up the napkin in her hand, as she and her daughter stepped through the door to their house. She glanced at the crumpled paper one final time before tossing it into the trashcan by the door, much to Miranda's dismay. 


	4. Unrequited

A Tryst for Two (Chap 4)  
  
By vandiver49  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.  
  
I promise to never attempt to try and write two stories concurrently again. Being out at sea for a month and trying to remember where you want your story to go has proven to be a difficult undertaking for me. Anyway on to the story. __________________________________________  
  
T'Pol awoke with a start the next morning from a fitful night of sleep. Despite her lengthy meditations, her slumber had been filled with the dreams of how her life had been different if she had chosen to follow her heart instead of her mind. It was an illogical analysis in her estimation and only served to bolster her decision not to accept Trip's invitation. T'Pol turned the covers back and headed to the bathroom to begin her morning routine, determined to abate her mind's wandering thoughts. After a soothing shower, she went to the closet to get dressed for her daughter's momentous day. She donned her heavy ambassadorial robes and proceeded downstairs to the kitchen for a light breakfast. Her keen sense of hearing alerted her to an unintelligible conversation her daughter was having with an unseen person. But as soon as T'Pol crossed the threshold, Miranda's words came to an immediate stop.  
  
"With whom were you speaking?" T'Pol asked of her daughter. Miranda was dressed in robes that were similar to her mother's, but with some modern touches. The robes Miranda wore were not nearly as heavy as her mother's and were woven from a synthetic Terran material that allowed the garment to breathe and flow in the wind. T'Pol quickly deduced that her daughter had just finished a video phone call, evident by the fact that Miranda was in the process of retracting her finger from the now black flat screen.  
  
"No one in particular mother, I was simply making final preparations for today." Miranda replied nonchalantly. In truth though, her mother's sudden presence had slightly startled her.  
  
T'Pol quickly dismissed the matter at her daughter's diligence, a fact that was not surprising at all. She returned her focus back to one of the few appliances in the kitchen, the food slot. She walked over to the machine and ordered breakfast for her daughter and herself. "Mixed fruits, unpeeled." She ordered. Within seconds a large bowl materialized, filled with an array of fruits from apples, oranges, and bananas to grapes and kiwi. T'Pol brought the bowl back to the counter along with two smaller plates for the refuse. T'Pol reached into the bowl, deciding to partake in one of the shiny red apples, long since convinced of the practicality of 'finger foods'. As T'Pol slowly began to devour her piece of fruit, she caught out of the corner of her eye Miranda eyeing the bowl conspicuously, as if unsure of what selection to make. She soon realized though that her daughter's hesitation was in fact due to Miranda's nascent experience with Terran food. Miranda was about to mimic her mother's actions with a banana when T'Pol reached a cautionary arm out to her daughter.  
  
"That is not how you eat it Miranda." Her daughter's answer came in the form of a raised eyebrow. "You must peel off the skin of the banana before consuming it." T'Pol continued. This only confused her daughter further as she turned the banana around in every direction in search of where you were supposed to peel the fruit. T'Pol almost smiled at her daughter's dilemma and how reminiscent it was of herself as she took the fruit from Miranda and peeled it for her. T'Pol's mind would have relished the opportunity to relive that particular memory, but she forced herself to stay anchored in the present, if for no other reason than to prove that she could do so. The two Vulcans finished the rest of their breakfast, washing the meal down with a tall glass of water before heading out the door to the Vulcan Consulate and Miranda's orientation.  
  
. . .  
  
T'Pol and Miranda spent the better part of the day in a series of brief, boring lectures at the Consulate, resulting in both women's attention and patience to wane as the day went on. Most of the information disseminated was repetitive to them as they were both well versed in the Terran customs and cultures, unlike most of the new arrivals. During a brief intermission, the two stepped outside to enjoy the short respite in to afternoon sun.  
  
"It's hard to believe that it's already 5:30," Miranda commented to her mother. Normally T'Pol would have found her daughter's colloquial assessment somewhat grating, but time and experience had eased her nerves.  
  
"Yes, I find it strange that four hours were dedicated to safety for Vulcans on Earth when there have been Vulcan neighborhoods on the planet for at least ten years."  
  
"Well Mother, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Miranda inquired.  
  
"Nothing specific, I will probably visit Starfleet Headquarters after the lectures are complete before returning home."  
  
Considering the lateness of the day, Miranda realized that this would have to be the moment of truth. "That is a shame Mother; I believe Commander Tucker will be most disappointed that you 'stood him up'."  
  
True to Vulcan form, T'Pol gave her daughter a curious glare. "Exactly what are you referring to? I never made any such arrangements."  
  
"Of course not mother, I made them for you."  
  
T'Pol felt a hint of annoyance by her daughter's bold and daring move, but she easily conjured a solution to diffuse the situation. "Very well then, simply give me the number so that I may cancel the rendezvous."  
  
Miranda easily anticipated this move. "I'm afraid that won't be possible Mother, as I have lost the number." For a moment, T'Pol thought she observed the corner of her daughter's mouth turn upward.  
  
"So when and where am I supposed to meet the Commander?" T'Pol asked. She surmised that she would simply have to go and explain to him her daughter's subterfuge and decline his invitation in person.  
  
"The Palace of Fine Arts at 6 p.m. He said that he would meet you at the bench in front of the lagoon."  
  
Through T'Pol's typically placid expression, Miranda could tell that her mother was clearly annoyed as she continued. "Mother, you might as well go on the date with him. What is the worst that can happen?"  
  
"I had a very logical reason for not going Miranda," T'Pol said as she stepped closer to her daughter. "I declined his invitation because it would do nothing more than fulfill a selfish desire."  
  
"Why Mother? You know that you would at the very least enjoy yourself. I don't understand why you would choose to avoid the very thing that you seek?"  
  
Curious, T'Pol decided to play into her daughter's verbal hand. "And what is it that you think I seek, Miranda?"  
  
"Happiness," She replied. "Though I don't know the circumstances, somehow you and this man were 'happy' together. But you sacrificed it for our customs and traditions and consequently have not known a day of happiness ever since."  
  
"That is untrue Miranda; you have been a joyous part of my life ever since your birth," T'Pol countered.  
  
Miranda was fully aware of just how important she was to her mother. T'Pol had sacrificed her love of the stars and science to become a wife; her independence and freedom to become a mother. She realized that she was the only tangible evidence of her mother's selflessness, one which she had dedicated the last twenty years of her life to. But Miranda also knew her mother was simply being contrary and that she desired much more.  
  
"The kind of happiness you seek Mother, I cannot provide you," Miranda stated matter-of-factly, determined now more than ever to convince her mother to recapture her past joy. "Now, by chance, the man who introduced you to that very state of being is here. It would be illogical to avoid to very the happiness that you have long sought, especially when you are so close."  
  
T'Pol reflected upon Miranda's words, and the truth they held within. She could no longer deny her mind's desires and yearnings. They had become prevailing thoughts ever since she departed Vulcan. And her daughter's assessment was painfully correct, she would enjoy being in Commander Tucker's company, if for but only one night.  
  
"Very well Miranda, I will go on the 'date' that you have arranged for me."  
  
T'Pol was about to turn to leave when her daughter call out to her. "Mother, surely you don't plan on wearing that?"  
  
"I am afraid so. I do not have enough time to go home and change into anything more suitable."  
  
"Then may I suggest you purchase and dress along the way," Miranda said as she handed her mother a small card. "Here is the address of such a store. I believe they have something there that you will find suitable."  
  
T'Pol was somewhat impressed by how brilliantly her daughter had carefully crafted her scheme. "It is quite apparent that you planned this well. When did you conceive it?"  
  
"Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after you discarded his number into the trashcan, though the dress arrangements were made this morning," Miranda answered as she glanced up at the sun and its declining azimuth. "It's getting late Mother, you'd better hurry."  
  
"Thank you for the suggestion Miranda."  
  
"No problem," Miranda said. As T'Pol began to walk away her daughter called to her one final time. "One more thing Mother, have fun."  
  
. . .  
  
T'Pol was a perfectionist by nature, but not until today had that perfection come at a price. She had spent the last twenty minutes in the boutique ensuring that her dress, hair and appearance would be to Commander Tucker's liking. It had caused her to be something that was completely unforgivable to a Vulcan: late. She was four minutes and twelve seconds tardy for her rendezvous as she walked with a quickened pace through the park. She was traipsing barefoot over the grassy fields as it was faster means of transit than wearing the pair of high-heeled shoes that she held in her hand. As T'Pol crested the knoll, she was relieved to discover that the former Chief Engineer was still waiting patiently on the bench. T'Pol descended tenuously down the hill, every step bringing her closer to the man that had meant so much to her. Despite her rigorous training, there was nothing T'Pol could do to abate her swelling anticipation and the associated feeling in her abdomen. 'This must be what butterflies feel like' she silently mused.  
  
Once she was directly behind him, T'Pol reached her arm out and touched his shoulder to garner his attention. "Good evening Charles."  
  
Trip turned and stood up in one fluid motion, but his mind was nearly floored by the ravishing woman that stood before him. "Uh.hi T'Pol. I'm glad you made it," was all his mind could manage, as it was currently overwhelmed by the little black dress that was hugging T'Pol's luscious curves.  
  
T'Pol was slightly distracted as well as she examine the casual khaki slacks and light blue shirt that shrouded his masculine physique. Unlike most humans, it appeared as though Trip's body had avoided most of the ravages of time. "I apologize for being late Charles, but I discovered that my shoes were not made for walking."  
  
Trip looked over at the black stilettos that she was currently holding in her hand and silently chuckled at the thought of T'Pol struggling in them. "I take it they don't have high heeled shoes on Vulcan?"  
  
"No," she replied. "Of all the human peculiarities I have encountered, these have to be the most illogical." Truthfully though, T'Pol bought the shoes for the express purpose of impressing Trip, which was illogical in its own way.  
  
He was right on the verge of making another humorous quip, but seeing as how it was already 6:10, Trip decided it best to table they're current conversation. "Well, do you have a preference of where you would like to eat?"  
  
The simple question proved to be somewhat difficult for T'Pol, for while she enjoyed Terran fruits and desserts, her experience with human cuisine was somewhat limited. "As I do not have a preference, I will leave that decision to you. You are aware of my taste."  
  
"Well, I think I know of a place we can go that'll be to your liking and we won't have to walk." Trip volunteered. He politely escorted T'Pol towards the park's edge, where he hailed a hovertaxi.  
  
As Trip provided the driver directions to their destination, T'Pol eyes were captured by the radiant sun as it began its descent below the horizon. The sky was ablaze with color, from red to orange and yellow, all of which blended seamlessly with the rolling scenery. The Terran sunset reminded T'Pol of her home, of where she was supposed be. Sitting on Earth preparing to go on a date was definitely not in the Vulcan edict and everything that was Vulcan within her screamed of how illogical this was. But the part of T'Pol that was woman, the part that she had denied so long, caused her to silently enjoy the attention. And it was that part of T'Pol that led her to quietly slip back into the high heels.  
  
"Hey T'Pol, we're here," Trip said as the taxi slowed to a stop. Trip got out first and walked around to open her door. He was initially surprised that she actually waited for him, as it was a very antiquated practice. But Trip's diligence was rewarded when T'Pol rose out of the taxi, the heels accentuating the length of her lovely bronze legs.  
  
T'Pol was quite pleased that her efforts hadn't gone unnoticed. "Charles, I thought it was considered impolite to stare on Earth?" she teased, his mouth slightly agape as she walked by.  
  
Trip had chosen a quaint Italian restaurant nestled near the dock where great ships of sail still pulled in. They chose to sit on the patio to enjoy the wonderful evening breeze and the night sky. Trip decided to order for the both of them, recommending the vegetable lasagna for her and the seafood fettuccine for himself.  
  
As the two waited for their respective meals, T'Pol decided to inquire about her old friends. "So Charles, how has the old crew of the Enterprise fared in my absence?"  
  
Trip leapt in to conversation with great enthusiasm. "Oh, where to begin." he thought aloud. "Well first off Malcolm and Hoshi are happily married." He knew that this revelation would garnish a raised brow from T'Pol. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it either at first, but they are somehow really good for one another," he continued, producing a rectangular metallic object from his pocket. He lightly tapped the corner, causing the electronic photo album to flicker to life. He scrolled through a few photos before settling on a picture of Malcolm, Hoshi and three little girls. "Here, that's Camille, Hue and Sarah," he said as he handed T'Pol the photo.  
  
"They appear to be content," T'Pol commented as she examined the image, the happiness of the family appeared to radiate through the pixels.  
  
"Well it wasn't all sunshine at first, they encountered some going pains," Trip prefaced. "There were several occasions where Malcolm had to stay with me 'cause she'd kicked him out." He smiled. "I mean she always took him back but nothin' was funnier than listening to him being cursed out in about eight different languages."  
  
T'Pol listened to him intently, remembering how Trip's uncanny narrative skills always captivated her. "How is Captain Archer faring?"  
  
"Oh, he's doing great," Trip answered as he reached over to scroll the photo album again. "He of course made it to Admiral before he got out. He also was able to find someone who actually wanted to marry him too," Trip joked, finally stopping on a picture of Jonathan standing next to a redheaded woman. "That's him and his wife, Captain Christine Alexander."  
  
The face appeared somewhat familiar to T'Pol. "Was she not the captain of the Columbia?"  
  
"Yep. When we finally made it back home, they were on their way out. It was a chance meeting really, but I think it was love at first sight. Anyway, since they were both in Starfleet, having a direct relationship was kinda prohibited," Trip elaborated.  
  
"So how did they circumvent that problem?"  
  
"Well, they couldn't very well send letters back and forth through subspace proclaiming their love and affection for one another, so they used a courier," Trip replied, reaching over once again to page through the album to the former helmsman.  
  
"Ensign Mayweather was the courier?"  
  
"Well, then Lieutenant, now Captain Mayweather," Trip answered. "He was stationed on the Columbia after we got back and both of them would send their messages through him. Poor Jon, it was a tough decision for him but he felt that he had to make Travis the best man at his wedding over me. I think he's somewhere gallivanting through the cosmos on the Resolute."  
  
"Does he have a family?" T'Pol asked, as it seemed to be the popular trend amongst the former crew.  
  
"Not to my knowledge, he was never really one to stay in one place for any length of time. He loves space too much I think to consider settling down," Trip said, reaching over to T'Pol one final time to retrieve his album.  
  
As he took the card from her hand, she noticed for the first time the golden band that encircled his ring finger. "And how is your wife?" she inquired, silently chiding herself for even entertaining the idea that this night could be more than an evening with an old acquaintance. But the question seemed to have an adverse effect of Trip's demeanor as he replaced the card into his pocket. She quietly watched as his smiled melted away at the thought of the subject.  
  
"Umm.I'm not really married anymore," Trip replied, idling playing with his ring. "My wife. died almost nineteen years ago."  
  
T'Pol knew what she was supposed to say, but being Vulcan she couldn't sympathize for his loss, at least not openly. "That is unfortunate to hear," was all the apology she could muster as the thought of one of her friend's lives not being the picture of serenity never occurred to her. "May I ask what happened?"  
  
"Yeah, everyone else knows," Trip submitted. "After we returned back to Earth I went home for a couple of days. I ran into an old friend from the Academy, Ellen Richards. She was like my next best friend after Jon. Anyway, we had made this stupid promise that if neither one of us were married by the time we were 34, we'd marry each other. I knew she wasn't serious about it at the time, but when we met back up, she actually asked me about it. We mulled it over for a week and decided that it wasn't such a bad idea."  
  
For some odd reason, T'Pol found it necessary to make one of her classic observations. "That is not a very logical way to choose a mate."  
  
"And having an arranged marriage from the time you're six is?" Trip fired back jokingly. "I will admit that it was kinda awkward it first, but in time we grew to love one another and a year later we had Charlie. Well, we were both career oriented folk but we decided that we would each have one last hurrah and get out of our respective fields. She was on the archaeological dig with Starfleet on Mars that was only supposed to last two weeks. Well I was home with Charlie and one day I get this call from Jon saying that there had been a problem with their mission. Come to find out, there was ion storm that hit right when they were blasting-off to return home. It caused them to lose electrical power and subsequently crash back down on the planet."  
  
Trip chose to pause momentarily, his story no matter how many times he told it, was always a painful memory to recall. "It's funny really; I told her that planet was cursed before she left," he said, more to himself than to T'Pol. "Once I found out, I resigned my commission and went into depression for a couple of months. I don't think I would've made it if not for all my friends. Anyway, I wear the ring as a reminder of her," Trip concluded. He looked up at T'Pol and for a moment thought she that she actually looked sad. "Anyway, how are you and Koss doing?" he asked, desperate to change the mood. Trip had no idea though that for T'Pol, this subject was just as painful.  
  
"Koss and I are no longer together," she said somewhat callously, right as their meals arrived. "His infidelity led to our eventual separation."  
  
Trip was of course stunned by this revelation; who'd ever heard of Vulcans getting a divorce, or even cheating on one another? "I'm sorry to hear that T'Pol, I'm sure it must have been tough raising your daughter by yourself," Trip said, reaching out to her hand.  
  
"I imagine that it was no more challenging than what you had to endure," she replied, glancing down at his hand on hers. She remembered Trip's earlier words, how he had shared his grief and loss with his friends, and how it aided him through his sorrow. Though Vulcans were a habitually introverted people, T'Pol realized how much she would have enjoyed the comforting words and companionship of at least one friend.  
  
Trip continued telling T'Pol the stories of the past over dinner as the dusk turned to night. She hung onto his every word, silently hoping that this night would not end. Fortunately for her, Trip had another destination in store for them, one which T'Pol was intimately familiar with.  
  
After another short ride in the taxi, T'Pol found herself standing in front of a jazz club, the same one which she had stolen away to on that distant Terran night. It was still bathed in haze and shadow and the music emanating from within was just as alluring. "How did you know?" she asked as she turned to face him.  
  
"What, which club you went to? Oh I just figured that it couldn't be that far away from the Vulcan Compound," Trip answered, knowing that she would appreciate that little bit of logic.  
  
They chose to sit near the middle of the club, where the wailing of the saxophone and the pounding of the drums were acoustically perfect. Trip turned to look at his companion and how the seductive melodies had captivated her. "So how did you come to like jazz of all things?"  
  
T'Pol managed to break herself from the music in order to answer his query. But she realized that many of her idiosyncrasies had little rhyme or reason. "I do not know Charles, but I do find it to be quite soothing. I have even learned to play."  
  
This immediately piqued Trip's curiosity. "You play? What instrument?"  
  
"The trumpet."  
  
"Ya any good?" Trip asked, knowing that there wasn't an endeavor that T'Pol didn't strive to be her best at.  
  
"I believe my skills are satisfactory," she modestly replied.  
  
"Oh you gotta play something for me."  
  
"I do not think that will be possible. I left my instrument back on Vulcan."  
  
"Hey no problem, you can just use one of theirs," Trip said as he pointed to one of the soloists.  
  
"Charles please." T'Pol said, about to ask him to show a small of discretion.  
  
"C'mon T'Pol, I know your good, I just wanna hear you play a couple of bars. Besides you're Vulcan, you're not embarrassed are you?" he cajoled, knowing exactly what buttons of hers to push.  
  
T'Pol took a painfully long blink as Trip walked up to the stage to negotiate a horn for her. He returned to their table within moments, with a trumpet in hand. She quickly surveyed the crowd and found that many of their eyes were on her as she stood up and accepted the instrument. As she approached the stage, T'Pol carefully pondered exactly what song she could play, unsure if there was any song that could accurately convey her mood.  
  
Trip watched anxiously as she leaned over to converse with the rest of the band before turning back around to the audience. The other musicians began first, the dark tones of the string bass and drums laying the foundation for T'Pol's entrance. She watched the world evaporate into darkness as she closed her eyes, and with a tiny breath squeezed out the first note of her sonata. It was the first of a sorrowful string of chords, each more woeful than the last. Her song put the crowd into a hush, their eyes and hearts seemingly drawn to her pain, including Trip. The other musicians attempted to follow T'Pol's lead, but none could match the raw emotion that was pouring out of the bell of her horn with every note.  
  
T'Pol found herself completely lost in the world of sound as she continued to play, her song straddling the line between jazz and blues. She imagined that the music was her voice, free from the underpinnings of logic that kept her from expressing how she truly felt. And though she had captivated the entire audience, there was only one person she was really playing for. She could only hope he was listening.  
  
Trip was listening, to every note, to every pitch, to every cry, to every plea held within the music; held bottled inside of her for so long. The bell of her horn was pointed directly at him, as if each painful chord she played was for his benefit. Her musical wails reverberated in his heart, jerking a tear from his eye. She was an anachronism as she stood rigidly on stage, the tones of her melody eliciting tears and frowns from everyone in the club except herself. How could a Vulcan feel so much emotion? How could a woman so beautiful know so much pain? Obviously, this particular Vulcan was not as devoid of feeling as she had led him to believe.  
  
T'Pol was relieved as she slowly began to conclude her solo, not because she was tired of playing, but because she had nothing left to give. She had poured herself into the music, liberating her conscience from her emotional burden. She slowly opened her eyes as the final note faded out of the trumpet, partisans and guests still in silent amazement over her performance. She watched as Trip stood up, slowly clapping his as he approached her. Others in the crowd soon followed suit, but it was Trip joining her on stage that captured her rapt attention. He escorted her off the stage and through the standing ovation of the audience back onto the street.  
  
"That was beautiful T'Pol. I had no idea you were that good," Trip said, looking at the woman in front of him in the pale moonlight.  
  
"Thank you Charles, it was a rewarding experience," T'Pol replied. Her mind was no longer filled with the sorrow and regret that had tormented her on so many lonely nights. The two of them stood on the sidewalk, reminded of that fateful day twenty-five years ago when they had said goodbye. Both of them had walked the trail of life alone for so long, and had endured so much. Neither one of them relished the thought to continue that journey again, not after tonight, not without each other.  
  
"T'Pol?" Trip asked hesitantly. "Why were you afraid to come on this date at first?"  
  
Normally, she would have dismissed that accusation, as Vulcans didn't get afraid. But T'Pol was tired of denying the truth, as well as herself. "I was.afraid because I did not trust myself around you," she admitted, looking longingly into his eyes. T'Pol could still sense his confusion as she pressed forward. "Do you remember that night in the Mess Hall when you convinced me to return to Vulcan?"  
  
"Yeah, I told you that Koss needed his wife and that you wouldn't be happy if you stayed," Trip answered, unsure of the correlation between that day and tonight.  
  
"You were incorrect on both accounts," T'Pol said, taking one step closer to her companion. "Happiness as eluded me ever since I left. And in hindsight I have come to discover that Koss did not need his wife.as much as I needed you."  
  
Trip couldn't help but be moved by the petite Vulcan's words as he looked down at her. He had no idea that he was indirectly responsible for her grief or that he could possibly mean that much to her. He found himself willing to do anything to correct both problems. "Just tell me what you want," he said, absently wrapping his arms around her.  
  
Back in that familiar place, T'Pol could feel the answer to his query swelling up inside of her. She rose up on her toes and closed her eyes, her lips searching passionately for his in the darkness.  
  
Trip was awed as their lips met, her intensity threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper into her passionate fury. Trip could feel his body slowly beginning to react to her as he desperately tried to come up for air.  
  
Sensing his struggle, T'Pol mercifully broke the kiss, leaving the former engineer breathless and highly aroused. If there was still any doubt in his mind, it melted away when T'Pol emphatically whispered five little words in his ear. "All I want is you." 


End file.
